The Foretelling-Prologue
by Skye4
Summary: An epic AU...a prophecy is made and it will rest on the shoulders of one yound man to save the Gods and his world from disaster. Shonen ai, eventual 1+2, 3+4, 5+S, and 13x6


Title: The Foretelling (Prologue / ??)

Author: Skye

Category: AU, fantasy, mythology, ooc, original characters, stuff ^_^

Warnings: long, some gore, childbirth, death (GW chara), shonen ai

Pairings: ^_^ not saying just yet, nothing squeaky

Feedback: hell yeah!

'According to theologians and men of 'science' the world of Eartos was created by the Lord of Creation, Creat. His seed spawned the gods…and the plants, animals, and people of Eartos. It is said that the death of his first human children brought him to tears and thus the world received its oceans, lakes and rivers. The next birthing of humans was much more successful for they were created in the image of He and his godly offspring. 

How many thousands of years have passed since that day is unknown of course. But humanity certainly has grown much since its humble beginnings. There are those that believe humans will evolve to gods one day, others cry out against this blasphemous belief. I do not know what I believe, I only know that we are an ancient and diverse people and for the most part love our gods. The gods are revered though it has been long since any miracles have been recorded in human anthologies but belief remains. After all if there are no gods, what will become of man?

As I sit here in solitude, I debate that question. Dear Dimythia, Child of Mercy, hear my prayers. Tonight I read the stars and felt a shiver take my body at what they foretold. The Lady of Visions, Maer herself has granted me with this amazing sight and tonight I saw the end of mankind. Few remember Kannon, Goddess of Mercy and fewer still believe she still exists on this plane. I believe both, my life of study has taught me much you see, and I know of her imprisonment by Ermail, that foul God of deception and trickery and I've seen what will befall us all if she is not freed. Alas! Poor Dimythia! Poor Epyon! Poor Felik! Your mother loves you all! Be strong her godly children for her fate and the fate of humanity will depend upon you!

By the sight bestowed upon me by Maer, I have seen that tonight was born an evil greater than any born of man and woman. With magic rivaling that of precious Lyriel this man shall cast a shadow upon the world of Eartos. A blight of plague and unrest will fall upon us. May the Children of Kannon have mercy on us all! 

Yet hope remains. When the Scythe hangs over the darkened moon a child will be born who will have the power to save us from this man's evil. Terrible hardship will follow this poor soul the length of its life yet with Dimythia's love the child will prevail! But this chosen one of Fatha, Lady of Fate, will not stand alone against the coming End. A warrior blessed by Streos' mighty hand, a child of the wild forests of Sanar, a chosen of mighty Lyriel, and the descendant of fire, loved by justly Meiran. With these five shall rest the burden of our kind.

Beyond my window the sky grows pink with the emerging sunlight. I feel its warmth like a fine drought through my veins. I am growing weak. Kannon, sweet Kannon, I am coming to your embrace. My scribes come….'

Last writings of Res

Historian and Seer

208 years after First Landing

*          *            *            *            *

296 F.L.

A hunched figure stared morosely at the approaching eclipse. From his vantage point in the north tower of the Church of Mercy, High Priest Johan Maxwell could plainly see the city of Galena spread out before him. The once beautiful city had fallen into disrepair in the last decade. Crime ran rampant on her cobbled streets, prostitutes, opium dealers, cutthroats and the like forcing the citizens to live in fear and filth. He had lived there his whole life, seen the shining Capitol fall to the mobs of 290, and doctored the victims of the plague that had killed a third of the city's population the year before. The cemeteries beyond Raven's Knoll still swelled with the putrefying remains of man, woman, and child alike, he thought sadly. Those who had survived bore the scars of that terrible time in the form of nightmares, scars, disfigurement, and often madness.

"Your Holiness," a voice called from the door of his chambers. Johan turned to see an apprentice clothed in the robes of the Church. He stepped away from the window and held out a hand out to the youth.

"Come in Yulin. What is the matter?"

 Yulin's voice shook with emotion as he answered, "Sister Helen has need of you downstairs, Your Holiness."

Johan arced a gray brow at the response, "How so?"

"A woman just arrived at the doors Holiness, raving mad and about to birth. Sister Helen is assisting her now and asks you come say a prayer for the woman."

"Merciful Dimythia! Yes, of course!" Johan exclaimed as he grabbed his covering and prayer book. "Show the way Yulin! Quickly!"

Boy and man raced down the massive stairwell to the first floor of the aged temple. At the foot of the stairs Johan began to hear the pain filled screams of the laboring woman. He gently but firmly pushed Yulin aside and ran to the sound as fast as his old body could manage. "Helen!"

"This way Johan!" Helen called.

As he rounded the corner Johan nearly fell over the kneeling body of another Church apprentice. He mumbled an apology and dropped carefully beside her, eyes searching for Sister Helen. He saw her a few feet away preparing an herbal brew. Assured by her presence he turned his gaze to the woman writhing on the floor before him.

"Dear gods…" he gasped. The woman was naked as the day she was born and covered in filth. The remains of her clothing hung from her sides, torn away to allow Helen to examine her bulging stomach. He supposed she had been beautiful once though it was obvious that sickness and pain had marred her youthful features. His knobbed hands fumbled to open his book of prayers, unable to tear his eyes away from the woman's pale face.

Suddenly Helen was at his side, forcing the woman to drink the foul smelling liquid in a chipped earthen mug. Her voice was soothing as she urged the woman to drink, and Johan felt that the words were for his benefit as well. He looked to the girl beside him and motioned for her to take her leave. The teenage girl was more than happy to abide.

"The time is near Johan. If we are not careful both she and the child will be lost," Helen intoned calmly.

"What do you need of me?"

She set down the vessel and shifted to wash her hands in the basin on the floor before replying, "Pray dear friend. I will do what I can for her body, her soul I leave to you."

Johan nodded at the words and opened his book. Ancient words of prayer spilled effortlessly from his lips, the tones weaving a soothing rhythm. Within a few minutes the woman's writhing and screams both decreased though she continued to mumble incoherently. Helen worked silently, her brow furrowed with concentration. 

"Please," the woman gasped. "Save my baby!"

"Shh," Helen replied. "Just do as I say girl. Your babe will be fine."

The woman nodded, seeming to have regained her scattered wits. She forced herself to her elbows, fevered eyes watching every movement Helen made. 

The gentle matriarch of Galena's Church met Johan's imploring gaze, simply nodding in answer to the questions she saw lurking in their brown depths. She positioned herself between the woman's legs and placed a hand on her distended stomach, "Push."

A terrifying howl escaped from the woman's lips as she pushed. The sound nearly caused Johan to pause in his prayers, chill fear seizing his heart.

"By the Goddess Johan, pray!" Helen commanded. "Girl if you do not push now your baby will die."

"No!" the woman cried. Her whole body tensed and a small head appeared between her legs. Scream after scream tore from her body as she gave birth to her child, Helen's firm instructions and Johan's prayers a constant accompaniment. 

At last the baby completely emerged from her body and she collapsed. Helen immediately began clearing the newborn's mouth and throat, spanking the bloodied and discolored child to force it to breath. A wail like a banshee burst from the tiny mouth of the child and Johan nearly laughed in relief. Quickly, the babe was washed and wrapped in the finest spun cotton they had.

Johan ceased his prayers and checked the silent woman for signs of life. She was alive, barely, but unconscious. "Will they live?"

Helen sighed, "I'm not sure. Both are sickly and weak…we'll know by morn."

Johan nodded, feeling his heart sink with the sad pronouncement. He struggled to his knees and laid his hand upon Helen's shoulder as he passed to leave, "You did all you could my friend."

She nodded, gray-blond hair falling from the tight bun at the crown of her head. Her blue eyes softened as she gazed on the baby crying softly in her arms. "So small…the poor thing."

"M-my baby…" 

Helen started and shimmied across the floor so the woman could see what she had begot. Gently she lowered the child so his mother could see, a soft smile on her lips, "It's a beautiful little boy dear."

The woman smiled tiredly, "A boy…my boy."

"Yes, I-" Helen began but stopped as her apprentice returned. "What is it Reese?"

"Pardon my intrusion Sister but His Holiness suggested I bring a robe for the lady and ewe's milk for the baby," Reese gushed nervously.

Helen nodded, "Of course dear. Set the milk and dropper down and help clothe our friend here."

"Yes, Sister."

Tentatively, the teen helped the woman into the wool robe and sat her up against the wall. She adjusted the woman's weight to sit more comfortably and bowed her head, " Is there anything else ma'am?"

The woman shook her head feebly and the teen quickly left the room. She turned clouded indigo eyes to the Sister after making sure Reese was gone, "May I hold him?"

Helen nodded and carefully handed over the bundled infant. She watched every slow, laborious movement the woman made and knew that she wouldn't live through the night. The realization made her want to weep but she held back her tears at the tender scene the pair made. 

"May I be alone with him please?" the woman asked softly.

For a moment Helen thought to protest then relented. She rose unsteadily to her feet and paused at the door. "Try to feed him. If you can't, use to dropper to give him ewe's milk. Do not be alarmed if he shows no interest, some babies won't feed for several hours."

"Thank you, I will."

"One last thing dear…what shall be the boy's name?" Helen questioned softly.

A tear streaked one filthy cheek, "His name will be Duo."

Helen frowned, "Duo?"

"Yes, Duo" the woman sighed. "Because he will always carry a part of me with him." 

Helen nodded, her voice choked with tears. "It is a good name."

She quickly fled the room, desperate for the sanctuary of her room. She reached her destination and collapsed to her bed sobbing. She fell into a troubled sleep, a prayer to Dimythia on her lips.

*          *            *            *            *

Wearily Johan climbed the stairs to his chambers on the top floor of the temple. He had been present for six births since he joined the Church, each one a glorious experience in the vitality, the purpose of life. But the birth he had just witnessed left him saddened. The woman was probably a prostitute and he feared for the baby's well being. If they lived, he reminded himself sullenly. 

Reaching his rooms he entered the bedchamber and began to undress. For some reason he found his attention drawn to the window once again. Slowly, as if afraid of what he would see, he inched to the sill. What he saw sent his heart beating rapidly in his chest. A defined arc of stars hung over the moon, like a scythe cutting through the night. But it was the moon that startled him. A dark disk partially obscured the pale moonlight…the end of an eclipse. 

Frantically he scrambled to his library, tossing books aside in his search. Volume after volume dropped to the floor as he scanned the yellowed vellum for the words spinning in his mind. His hand closed around a small tome bound in blue leather and he paused, knowing that his search had ended. Shakily, he opened the book…pages falling open to a well-creased page. A passage he had read over and over again in his youth.

'When the Scythe hangs over the darkened moon a child will be born who will have the power to save us from this man's evil. Terrible hardship will follow this poor soul the length of its life yet with Dimythia's love the child will prevail!'

Johan fell to his knees, head bowing over the opened pages. "Goddess, help us all."

*          *            *            *            *

Below in the sparsely lit chapel two voices whispered softly.

"You will take care of him for me?"

"Yes, Lara I will."

Lara, body destroyed by sickness breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Her body leaned against the wall, her arms falling limp as the slender, strawberry-blond haired woman took her baby from her arms. "Who are you?"

The woman smiled warmly, compassion shinning in her pale jade eyes. "I am Dimythia my child. You are in my house."

Lara gasped, "Goddess!"

Dimythia leaned beside the dying woman and gently brushed mated bangs from her eyes. "Rest Lara. You have earned it."

Lara nodded and exhaled softly. Minutes passed and still she didn't draw a breath. Her strained features relaxed and her expression portrayed peace at last.

As soon as Lara's soul left her body the babe in Dimythia's arms began to cry. She hummed softly as she slowly paced the chapel, her gentle tone soothing the crying child. Carefully, she seated herself at the foot of the altar and retrieved the dish of milk she had set there earlier. With tender patience she fed the infant the warmed ewe milk, an expression of wonder on her unblemished face.

"Poor child…so tiny, so needy. How fragile you humans truly are. Don't you worry your dear mother rests now in the Summerland. Her soul is at peace. 

"You my precious have a long road ahead of you. But you needn't worry beloved. I will be here," she paused laying a slender hand on Duo's breast. "Like your mother I will always be in your heart."

As dawn approached Duo slept warm and safe in Dimythia's embrace. His infant mind blissfully unaware of the life Fate had in store for him.

*          *            *            *            *

Shortly after dawn Helen and Johan descended the steps together, hearts troubled by what they both feared they would find. 

"Are you sure Johan?" Helen whispered.

Johan nodded wearily, "As sure as I can be…my teachers all believed the prophecy was fabricated. Not one of them believed that Res had actually foreseen this on his deathbed."

Helen sighed increased her pace to reach the chapel first. A strangled sob tore from her throat at the cold body on the floor. Her eyes searched frantically for the baby, "Where is the child?"

At the sight of the deceased woman Johan headed to the altar to pray, mind not registering the unknown whereabouts of the infant. As he approached the altar he heard a cooing sound and looked up to see Duo still in his swaddling cloth resting upon the altar.

All around the babe were pure white lilies…the flower of Dimythia.

"Helen, he is here." He cried.

The Sister was at the altar in an instant, tears flowing freely down her round cheeks. "By the Goddess how did he get here?"

Johan watched as Helen gently took the infant into her arms, waiting to meet her eyes before answering. "Dimythia has bestowed her favor upon the boy. The prophecy is true."


End file.
